Raw Emotion
by Angel16
Summary: A look at thoughts and feelings following ‘Zero Hour’.


Raw Emotion

By: Angel Koerkel

Rating: PG at worst

Synopsis: A look at thoughts and feelings following 'Zero Hour'.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.

Notes: This is one of a couple of stories submitted to and declined by Strange New Worlds 8. It was written before the season premiere of 2004. I hope you enjoy!

Part I

"_Captain didn't make it, Trip."_

His words echoed in my mind as I wandered the halls. Around me I saw the familiar faces of the crew as they went about their duties, despite the news that their Captain had recently been killed. There were no smiles, no friendly, "hellos", but there was a professionalism that would not permit them to abandon their posts, even in this trying hour.

"_Captain didn't make it, Trip."_

I closed my eyes briefly to shut out the sound of his voice. Lieutenant Reed's accent bounced off the inner recesses of my consciousness again. I breathed deeply to allay the rush of grief that followed each repetition of this particular memory.

"_Captain didn't make it, Trip."_

As I reached the safety of my quarters, I allowed the tears to fall. They burned hot against my cheeks and rolled unceremoniously off my flesh onto the front of my uniform. I silently cried while I allowed the onslaught of emotions to wash over me. My friend was gone.

"_Captain didn't make it, Trip."_

Again I breathed deep. Physically seeking a mental calm I knew would not come. For not only did I have immense sorrow for the loss of my Captain, but there was a whirlwind of other feelings swirling within me. I collected myself and left my quarters. There was someone I had to see.

Part II

I faced the door. It glared at me as if to ask what right I had to be there. I raised my hand to depress the call button. However, my arm stopped halfway there and withdrew. It had been weeks since I had felt the effects of my Trellium-D addiction so powerfully. My eyes closed as I attempted to regain control over my wayward appendage, the physical manifestation of my inner turmoil. Cautiously, I brought my hand over the door's control panel, but this time the door opened before I could request entrance.

I could tell he'd been crying. But, then again, so had I. For a moment we stood, rooted to the spot, staring into each other's eyes. Finally, I leaned in toward him. He opened his arms and took me in his embrace.

He was warm. His body felt hard and soft at the same time. I put my arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he encircled my waist. His hands began to caress up and down my back. I felt his tears washing through my hair as mine were soaking through his uniform. I don't know how long we stayed like that. I only know that in that moment, I accepted what I had tried so hard to deny. But, if I told him, would he understand?

I pulled back first, as it has always been in our relationship. We remained close, though, and he reached out to brush a rogue tear from my cheek. His hands cupped my face and a sad smile graced his lips. I broke eye contact to delay the inevitable. I glanced around the room that normally exhibited a quite sense of controlled chaos. Tonight, however, there was no control.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," he broke the silence. "I, uh, got a little angry earlier. I sorta took it out on a few of my things."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed." As I looked around, I noticed the broken coffee mug at the base of the wall and the toppled books from the desk. Other odds and ends were strewn about haphazardly.

He released me and began to tidy up the small space. "So," _sniffle _"what can I do for ya'?" He continued to clean and did not meet my gaze. "I don't imagine ya' need me for the engines, wha' with us gittin' a lift home and all." His tone held no bitterness; it was merely matter-of-fact.

My sigh must have been audible because he paused to look at me. "There is something I need to speak with you about. I don't know if now is the time, but you said that you would help me if I needed it, and," I glanced down, unwilling to meet his eyes for this admission, "I believe I need it now."

Abruptly he came to me again. He guided me to a chair as he sat down on the bunk opposite me. Gently, he lifted my face to his with a finger under my chin. "Now ya' listen to me, T'Pol. I lost one friend today. There's nothin' I can do 'bout that. But, I'm not about to lose another. I'm here for ya' any time ya' need me, even now." He took a deep breath before continuing, this time with his eyes downcast. "I don't know what all's been goin' on lately, but I know that when we almost lost Jon last time, ya' were a wreck. I can guess that ya' got some pretty strong feelin's for him. I won't pretend that doesn't hurt, just a little bit, after all we've been through, but I'm here for ya'."

This time it was my turn to breathe deeply and raise his gaze to mine. "And I won't pretend to not have strong feelings for Captain Archer, at least not with you. You know me too well for that. But they are not what you think. Captain Archer was a good friend, a colleague, and I respected him a great deal. His absence will affect me for a long time. However, that is not the problem." I saw the question in his eyes. "I have been in conflict with myself today. My grief for the Captain is intense, however it is overshadowed by other feelings." At this I paused. He waited silently, never pushing me where I wasn't ready to go.

"I have been overwhelmed by feelings of relief and gratitude, and for that I have great guilt. If I were truly Captain Archer's friend, I should not feel this way, and yet I do." My voice had softened to a near whisper and my gaze had fallen to the floor. Trip's voice broke my contemplation.

"I..I don't understand. Relief and gratitude? For what? That the Xindi Conflict is over? That we get to go home? What?" He did not sound upset or judgmental. He simply wanted to understand. I brought my eyes back up to meet his. I shook my head slowly. In a low voice I answered.

"All I can think of is how glad I am that it was the Captain, and not you, on board that weapon. His loss is difficult to bear, yours would be impossible."

End


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